Your Papa loves you
by ElphinBoy
Summary: "You're such a clever little man and your Papa loves you. You know that don't you?" Hamish looked at his uncle, Hamish had Johns eyes, but his expression was just like Sherlock's. His clever little brain trying to figure out what was wrong with his Papa, that was making his Daddy so upset...Somehow he had figured out... Sherlock was dying.
1. You need to wake up now

Mycroft Holmes sat next to the hospital bed staring at his brother, and the machines he was connected to.  
The ECG monitor was beeping normally, the venous line was in correctly. He's getting all his fluids. Mycroft thought.

Drip...drip...

Sherlock's breathing was the most worrying thing. He was being breathed for, through an ugly tube in his throat.

Sherlock had been in this state for almost 3 hours now.

Mycroft suddenly spoke out. .

"You need to wake up soon, please...stop this at once Sherlock"

He started to say in a weak voice

Mycroft was crying, he wanted his brother to wake up. He needed him to wake up.

"Sherlock come on now, please try and wake up. The doctor says you are a long way away... but you can wake up. You're...well you're you. You hurt yourself badly Sherlock, you should have been more careful."

Mycroft almost chuckled.

"You survived falling from a building once, but you're pushing your luck boy...I...I don't know what's going to happen...You caught them, brilliant case, you solved it and you got them...but they got you too. The doctor's have cleaned you up well. They had to save your head a bit... where it's sore. But that'll grow back... not that you care what it looks like. I love you little brother. Please wake up... I promised mummy I would always look after you. I need you. What about John Sherlock? He needs you... and so does Hamish. He needs his Father Sherlock. You have to wake up."

Then the door of the hospital room opened. John walked in, struggling to hold a toddler under his arm.

John had been crying. His eyes red and tearful. He was wearing his old white jumper and a pair of jeans.

He clung to the infant in his arms who had stopped struggling at the site of the hospital bed.

"Uncle Myc!"

Screamed the three year old, holding his arms out to Mycroft, who took him in his arms.

John rushed to Sherlock's side, kneeling on the floor next to the bed John started to cry.

Hamish began to scream at the site in front of him.

"DADDY! PAPA! DADDY PAPPA!" screamed Hamish. Crying and trying to break free from Mycrofts hold.

"Daddy just wants to talk to Papa, Hamish...Papa hurt his head and is very sleepy...Please Hamish, be good for Papa."

Mycroft gently told Hamish who started to sob quietly as his uncle carried him out of the room to give John and his brother a moment.

"You're a good boy Hamish." Whispered Mycroft hugging the toddler close to him and stroking the little one's dark curls.

"You're such a clever little man and your Papa loves you. You know that don't you?"

Hamish looked at his uncle, Hamish had Johns eyes, but his expression was just like Sherlock's.

The 3 year old seemed to process the words, before he replied:

"I love Papa and Daddy. Uncle My too."

Mycroft sniffed before putting the toddler onto his shoulders and carrying him down the corridor, towards the hospital canteen.

"Tea for Daddy and Papa!" squealed Hamish.

"Yes. Tea for Daddy and Papa."

"And Uncle My!"


	2. Cold Tea

Mycroft returned 20 minutes later with a cup of tea for John and a carton of orange juice for Hamish.

"Thanks."

Muttered John as Mycroft handed it to him. John took a huge sip before scrunching up his face.

"Cold.." he mumbled before placing the cup on the bed side table and returning to staring at Sherlock.

Hamish tottered over to John with the cartoon of orange juice in his little hands. He reached up and put the carton next to the cup of tea and then grabbed Johns hand.

"Papa sleepy?."

Hamish asked pointing to Sherlock, making John cry even more as he pulled Hamish into a tight hug.

"I have to go now John..." Said Mycroft straightening his tie and picking up his umbrella. "If there is anything I can do... Please let me know."

"Thanks."

John said again, and then the door was closed.

Sherlock, John and Hamish.

A family.

John and Sherlock had been a team from the day they first met. Since the first case they solved together.  
When they where separated, after Sherlock had to fake his own death to protect those he loved, once Sherlock returned they both agreed to never part again.

Although thinking about it he didn't think they had ever told one another they loved each other.

They didn't need to.

Somewhere along the road they decided they needed another. A child.  
Mycroft agreed to help his brother and John who had caused such a change in Sherlock .He used his influence in the government, and Hamish was...created. A child using genes of Both Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Of course there was a lot more than that, but this was something neither of the pair was concerned about. Their usually curious minds neglected any other aspect of the situation, Hamish was theirs.

Hamish was as brilliant as his fathers. He was exceptionally bright for a child of his age, Sherlock was convinced he would be a consulting detective whereas John was sure the boy would grow up to be a doctor. Often Mrs Hudson would have to remind them that Hamish was only 3, when she asked him what he would like to be he replied a pirate. Much to Sherlock's joy. Hamish made them complete.

John, Sherlock and Hamish...

Family.

John was thinking about this. Hamish had fallen asleep in his arms. He placed him gently on one of the two arm chairs in the hospital room, and pulled off his jumper to use as a blanket for the sleeping toddler.

He sat on the chair next to the bed and picked up the heavy dead weight of Sherlock's hand. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it before moving back over to the chair the toddler was sleeping on. He picked Hamish up and carried him out of the room, "We'll be back tomorrow Sherlock... Please...Wake up for us then."

Then the room was empty of life, besides the gentle beeping of a heart monitor and the machine that was forcing the worlds only consultant detective to keep breathing.


	3. Eight days since

_The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson _

_Sherlock in critical condition. Has not yet woken. It has been eight days since.  
_

John closed his laptop and put his head in his hands he walked into the kitchen and looked at the clock. 5:48 am.

Hamish was still asleep, after spending most of the night crying for his Papa. John boiled the kettle and made himself a cup of instant coffee with two sugars.  
He returned to his desk and sipped his coffee slowly opening his laptop once again.  
He decided to write out the case for the blog. He was the blogger. Sherlock needed his blogger. When Sherlock woke up he could read it... if Sherlock woke up.  
He clicked his knuckles and began to tap at the keyboard.

_Untitled _

_I have decided not to give this blog a clever name, I can't seem to think of any. Sherlock usually laughs at the titles of my blog entries, but at the moment he isn't able to laugh. So neither am I. Hamish laughs but not as he usually does, he doesn't fully understand. He is only three. _

_It was a murder investigation, that got Sherlock excited, three murders had been committed, he was beaming when we left Hamish with Mrs Hudson. The game was on.  
At the crime scene, Sherlock was his usual brilliant self.  
The chase went on and I returned home to take care of Hamish. When I returned to Baker Street, I thanked Mrs Hudson and invited her up to our flat for a cup of tea before I put Hamish to bed.  
She accepted and she and Hamish told me all about the day.  
"We Made cake, Mrs Hudson and I!" screamed Hamish happily, the evidence of that was on his face, it was covered in flour.  
Mrs Hudson was helping me get Hamish ready for bed when I got a call.  
Sherlock.  
He sounded excited, "Got him! Quick John! Oh got to be careful, he's got a gun... not a psychopath... shame it's just a teenager, not important, bullied...all of the victims school teachers. This turned out boring John!"  
I almost laughed at him, this case wasn't as complicated as we hoped, He said he'd be home soon and then we hung up. _

_Then I got a call from Mycroft. The teenager with the gun started shooting, Sherlock ran and was trying to reason with the young man. The teenager ran into a multi story car park and Sherlock followed. Many levels up the teen tried to jump, Sherlock grabbed grabbed the teenager to try and save him. But they both fell.  
The murderer, was just a teenager, a bullied boy who was confused and scared.  
Sherlock...he probably realized this, the murderer was a child really, and Sherlock is a father. He had to try and help the bloody kid.  
The teenager died on impact.  
__**He was lucky.**_

John finished the blog and then looked back to the clock. 7:06 am.  
Hamish would be up in a few minutes, John made himself another coffee, then put some toast in the toaster for when is little boy woke up.  
After Breakfast they would go and see Sherlock, as they did every day.


	4. Running to Sherlock

John fed Hamish some breakfast, but didn't eat any of the toast and jam he had put on his own plate. Hamish noticed and pointed to John's brekfast  
"Daddy?"

"Not now Hamish." John sighed.

He dressed Hamish in some little jeans, a checked shirt and a jumper similar to his own. John smiled at the little boy, the perfect mix of himself and Sherlock.  
He put some shoes and socks on the kicking three year old's feet and finally Hamish was ready. John looked at his watch... 9:14am. It was still several hours before visiting hours. He sighed and picked up Hamish who started to protest, he was neatly coloring in the coloring book Mrs Hudson had given him as a treat and didn't want to be disturbed, but the boy sensed his daddy needed a hug, and so hugged John back tightly.  
"See Papa soon." Asked Hamish.  
"Sure thing little man. We need Papa don't we." John answered  
"Yes. We need Papa. Daddy and Pappa and Hamish! We need Papa for that!"  
Hamish smiled in triumph at making his Daddy laugh. He hated when Daddy was sad or Papa.

John put CBeebies on for Hamish, who started screaming "BORED!" as he kept figuring out what was going to happen on every programme, John sighed. "You're so much like your Papa Hamish." He told the boy who looked sad and held out his hand for his daddy to take hold of. But then the phone rang.

John answered immediately.  
"Mycroft!"

"He's awake."  
Then they where out of the flat, John had Hamish under one arm and the phone in his hand still talking to Mycroft.  
"How is he?!"  
"He's... John you need to get here."  
Hamish started reaching for the phone, demanding to talk to his "Uncle My." But Mycroft had gone and John was running to the hospital with his 3 year old under his arm.

Running to their Sherlock.


	5. Please

When they arrived at the hospital, Mycroft was waiting for them outside, smoking a cigarette. When he saw John he threw it to the ground and stamped it out before running to John.  
Mycroft caught up with him and panted  
"John. Just wait a minute, he's not in good shape. Here give me Hamish."  
Hamish started to cry as John handed him to Mycroft and Mycroft lifted his nephew to give him a piggy back ride. John ignored his sons cries, he needed to get to Sherlock.  
Mycroft was following John, Hamish clung onto his uncle's neck.

"John".  
Mycroft said steadily. "I wouldn't... I don't think you should go in... not yet... it's..."  
They arrived at the room, Mycroft had been trying to stop the army doctor but John pushed open the room door.  
He was quickly bustled out by a nurse.

"No wait! I need to see him!" screamed John.

"Sorry...He can't be seen just yet. Please come back later." The nurse said quickly before disappearing back into Sherlock's room.

Two more Doctors ran past and into the room, John stared at the door, Sherlock behind it and started to sob. He slumped down onto the corridor floor and cried, his head was in his hands and he couldn't stop the tears from falling.  
The pain of the last eight days was finally coming out. For eight days he had been strong but no more.  
Even with Hamish pulling on his jumper and desperately begging him to stop he couldn't. He couldn't be strong any more, not without Sherlock.  
Hamish lay his head onto his Daddy's knee and began to cry silently while still pulling at the jumper, Mycroft sat down next to John and pulled his nephew onto his knee to comfort the boy. He put his arm around John and patted his back awkwardly.  
"Cheer up old chap... he'll be okay, he's Sherlock Holmes!"  
The mention of his name made John cry out as if it hurt him. Mycroft took a breath and continued to speak "John... I'm so sorry. I'm sure he'll be okay." Mycroft said softly.  
John sobbed, although he tried not to before he stuttered  
"I...I can't loose him again."

Mycroft closed his eyes. Sherlock's fake death, although it was years and years ago, had impacted John greatly.  
His limp came back and he would not speak to anyone. He locked himself away in the flat, only allowing a select few visitors in.  
Mrs Hudson, like a mother figure she helped him through and made sure he was eating.  
Molly Hooper, now Hamish's Godmother. Knew Sherlock's death was a fake, she visited on Sherlock's request and did her best to comfort the army doctor, who truly became a friend.  
Greg Lestrade kept his distance, he sent an occasional text but did not visit much, he thought Sherlock's death was somehow his fault, he too missed the strange man who helped him so much, Greg knew Sherlock was not a fake.  
John would not let Mycroft near for a long time. He blamed him. He could not bare the sight of him. But Mycroft kept visiting.  
Three years after the 'Death', Sherlock came back. John was himself again. Happy. Complete. The two went back to solving cases and hardly ever left each others sides.  
John soon stopped denying he was Sherlock's date.  
They where together.  
A few years later after a lot of patience and planning, Hamish came into the picture.  
John couldn't be happier.

But Then Sherlock had to fall.  
He cried in the corridor for the rest of the day and throughout the night, Mycroft bringing food and things to entertain Hamish, stayed with him.  
Everytime a doctor or nurse walked past John would look expectantly for news but they did not get any.  
At 4:47 am the next morning a doctor walked out looking grave and gently woke up John who was Holding Hamish in his arms like a baby. Mycroft had left during the night to continue his work as the British government. John woke up and looked at the Doctor and ugged his sleeping child close to him.

"Please." John croaked: "How is he?"


	6. I hope so

Suddenly John was wide awake, the doctor standing in front of the door, but none of that mattered, he heard Sherlock. His Sherlock was calling.  
"PAPA!" Hamish screamed, his fathers shouts waking him up.

"JOHN! HAMISH!" Sherlock's voice was weak but he was shouting for them.  
John pushed passed the doctor, with Hamish under his arm he ran into the room and saw Sherlock, sitting up a little bit on his pillows and smiling smugly, John made a noise that was a cross between a laugh and a cry, then he was next to Sherlock, hugging him as if he's never let go.  
Hamish sat on the hospital bed on the opposite side to his daddy. He was quietly watching his parents, smiling contently, his eyes that looked so like John's with an expression so like Sherlock's.

The doctor walked back in, although he looked grave he couldn't help but smile at the family.

"When can he come home?"

John asked right away, at this question Sherlock's face fell and he looked down at the blankets.  
Hamish screeched "For my birthday Papa come home!"  
This made Sherlock smile again as he pulled his little boy to him and kissed the little one's curls. Hamish reached his hand to Sherlock's head, still wrapped in a bandage, some of his hair had to be shaved, Hamish looked confused, Sherlock grabbed Hamish's hand to stop the toddler touching his still pounding head.  
"How long until Hamish's birthday?" Asked Sherlock.

John thought for a moment " Just over three weeks" he answered.

Sherlock looked hopefully at the doctor who consulted some notes before agreeing then he told hamish:

"Your Papa should be home for your birthday little one"

Hamish giggled excitedly and then hugged Sherlock, who had tears in his eyes. John Joined in and then Hamish whispered. "Hamish and Daddy and Papa."

Tears rolled down Sherlock's eyes and then whispered:

"Hamish and Daddy and Papa...I love you so much Hamish. I love you John. I... "

Then Sherlock was in tears, sobs shaking his thin body as he clung to his family.

"Hey hey...It's alright. We're together again. Sherlock We love you"

John said hugging the detective even closer to him.

But Sherlock continued to cry then sniffed.

"John...I don't think...they don't think I'll be able to walk again."  
John was crying but then whispered into Sherlock's ear.

"It's okay. It's okay. I love you, you're okay. You're alive and safe, Hamish loves you. You know us, you still have your brain Sherlock...I thought... I was worried...Sherlock it'll all be okay"

The two hugged and then Sherlock pulled Hamish to him and hugged the boy tightly, kissing his little hands.  
"It'll be okay" John repeated.

"I hope so John," sadly whispered.


	7. Thunder soon

Mrs Hudson was looking after Hamish, who was looking out of the window, chewing on a piece of toast.

From her armchair Mrs Hudson smiled at the little boy.  
"Your Papa's coming home Hame"  
She said.  
"I know Nana"  
He said finishing the toast but leaving the crust on the plate.  
Mrs Hudson beamed, Hamish called her "Nana" and she was thrilled, he had always called her this since he could talk but hearing it always made her smile.  
"And it's your birthday tomorrow!"  
She told him happily.  
Hamish got himself down from the chair he was sitting on and toddled over to Mrs Hudson.  
"I'll be four, wont I Nana?"  
"Yes dear"  
Hamish looked out of the window at the pouring rain and looked sad. He sighed before he crawled up onto Mrs Hudson's knee, carefully so he wouldn't hurt her hip.  
"Is four big enough, to look after papa?"  
He asked.  
Mrs Hudson hugged Hamish tightly.  
"Oh Hamish" she sniffed "You do so much for your Papa and your Daddy. They need you like you need them"  
Hamish went back to looking out of the window, only he stayed with his Nana.  
Rain was pouring and the sky was grey.  
"Thunder soon" whispered Hamish to himself.  
A text from John, they wouldn't be home for a while.  
Mrs Hudson told Hamish and he looked upset, but cheered up when she told him they should make a welcome home card for Papa.  
She set up some paints and glitter, all sorts of stickers on the newspaper covered floor.  
She sat on her chair, while the little boy sprawled on the floor and began painting a 'Crime scene' for papa, with lots of red paint.  
Mrs Hudson was just telling Hamish how good the painting was, when they heard the front door open, Hamish squealed with delight and shouted "PAPA! DADA!"  
And ran to the door to greet them.


	8. I don't know

"Bloody Hell!"  
Sherlock's voice echoed through the corridor, John was carrying Sherlock bridal style, both soaked through from the rain and Sherlock was hitting John on he head, "Put me down this instance John!"

John shouted through gritted teeth:  
"So you can fall on the floor?! Sherlock, please just let me get this sorted...Hey little man"  
John stopped shouting as soon as he saw Hamish.  
Hamish was staring at his fathers, Sherlock tried to smile at his boy and said as brightly as he could:  
"Hello Hamish!"  
The toddler looked unconvinced at the forced cheerfulness and went back to hug Nana.  
John carried Sherlock into Mrs Hudson's flat, Mrs Hudson kissed both men on the cheeks, John smiled tiredly and Sherlock scowled before Mrs Hudson went to go and make some tea.  
"Welcome home Sherlock dear."  
Sherlock huffed and John put him on the sofa, and then rushed out of the flat "I have to get the wheelchair and bags from the cab!"  
At the word wheelchair, Sherlock punched a cushion .  
"Papa look!"  
Hamish shouted waving the picture excitedly in Sherlock's face.  
Sherlock smiled sadly at the picture, he could see, it was him and John, at a crime scene.  
"That's a lovely picture Hamish...Thankyou."  
Then Sherlock started to sob. Tears rolled down his face and he pulled at his hair, frantically wiping his eyes trying to stop the tears.  
Hamish was scared, Papa never cried.  
"Papa? What's a matta?!"  
Hamish whispered tilting his head to the side.  
"Oh Hamish..." Sherlock whispered trying to smile for his little boy. Mrs Hudson watched from the kitchen doorway, she was in tears.  
John scrambled back into Mrs Hudson's flat with a wheelchair, and a suitcase under his arm.  
He left them by the door, and walked over and sat next to Sherlock, who put his head onto John's shoulder. Hamish crawled onto John's lap, the little boy was crying too.  
"John" Sherlock sobbed "What are we... what am I?"  
John just shook his head and scrunched his eyes up to stop his own tears from falling.  
Hamish looked up at John.  
"Daddy... what we do?"  
Sherlock's sobs grew louder.  
Hamish said again:  
"Daddy...what we do?"

"...I don't know."


End file.
